


how to tame a team of foxes

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, HQ Brofest Flash Fiction Tier, Mild Manga Spoilers for Inarizaki High School (Chapter 247 onwards), Non-Linear Chronology, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10796430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: The Inarizaki High School Volleyball Club, in glimpses and starts.





	1. stand your ground

**Author's Note:**

> (or, how many tiny Inarizaki flash fics can I write with 5 chapters of material?)

There are two of every birthday gift except this one, so naturally, they pounce on it at the same time. Or rather, Atsumu pounces; Osamu’s already there. His arm curls round the volleyball like a quiet hug, close to his chest. It is almost as big as his chest.

Osamu looks up, holds the ball out.

“Share?”

Atsumu spares him a glance, a sigh, as if the concession is his to make.

“Well, since you insist.”

The flickering party lights catch the faint quirk on the corner of Osamu’s lips. Atsumu presses his together, looks away, looks back.


	2. be very patient

“Four seconds,” says Osamu, sprawled belly-down on the cushions with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot green tea. From the corner of his eye, he catches the appraising look Suna shoots him.

“You were counting?”

Osamu shakes his head. 

_I just know._ It floats to the tip of his tongue, melts like spun sugar. The trick, he’s learned, is to keep people waiting. Guessing. 

Suna yawns, and Osamu thinks with a smile: _well, this one couldn’t care less._

Onscreen, the video continues; the seconds tick by on the next serve. _One, two, three, four._


	3. keep a watchful eye

Later—a whole six months later—Alan will join Shinsuke on the doorstep of the gym. 

Sweat sticking to his skin, he’ll take a long drink of water and say, staring into the sky, _you know, it wasn’t always easy for me to fit in_ , and Shinsuke will dispense one of his deceptively easy smiles, this one a rarer shade of understanding.

Today, Shinsuke notices the shoes peeking out of a bag, a telltale bruise on a muscular forearm, and goes up to his new classmate, who’s eating alone.


	4. have faith

You tried to sing a song like this once, at karaoke. It was a two-part harmony and you threw yourself in, reckless; you ran roughshod over the rising chorus and your voice cracked like glass. No one was there to pick up the pieces.

You save a seat next to you on the bus before you remember. _Stupid Osamu. Get better soon._


	5. let go, sometimes

When Inarizaki blaze their trail to the Nationals with a decisive straight-set win, Atsumu high-fives Ginjima on his left, then turns to his right, but Kita’s already gone.

“How _do_ those cameras find him so quickly?” he grumbles.

Alan’s laugh is low and amused. They watch Kita’s poise, the flashing lights in his eyes; they would blind him, thinks Atsumu, but Kita faces them head-on.

“Captains have responsibilities,” Alan remarks. “But I think he’d much rather be with us right now. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Atsumu fidgets, hands on hips, and grins back at him.


	6. pick your battles

“You took the last popsicle. Unforgivable.”

Rintarou turns a page on his magazine, placidly says nothing, and does not shift aside; Atsumu barges in anyway, squeezing himself into the narrow space next to him on the bus stop bench. The Family Mart jingle rings out behind them. Rintarou taps his foot on the ground.

“You _know_ soda is my favourite!”

Rintarou doesn’t bat an eyelid. “It’s mine too.”

Atsumu throws his head back with a dramatic sigh, a dancing smirk. “What if I told you it was for Osamu?”

“Osamu would let me have it,” Rintarou counters, and smiles, fleeting.


	7. don't look back

When Atsumu comes back, Osamu doesn’t ask how it was. He stares up at the ceiling, considers how December itself seems to hang suspended in the wintry air, all those little snow-dust specks—

Atsumu throws his bag on the floor and flings himself on his bed.

“I met some very interesting people.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Osamu mumbles. “I’m feeling much better.”

“Ha. Don’t be like that, Osamu. Nationals is going to be _fun_.”

And Osamu doesn’t ask, doesn’t have to, for Atsumu rolls over and his laugh is all of their lost time coming unwound, unbound, flying free. 


	8. breathe carefully

There’s a tug at Shinsuke’s sleeve. Osamu looks up at him, unblinking. 

“Tell the supporters not to cheer for Atsumu,” he says. It’s not a request.

Shinsuke studies Osamu, waits. Osamu’s hand drops slowly as he steals a quick glance across the court to Atsumu, who’s practising serves. His gaze flicks back to Shinsuke, determined.

“He doesn’t like it.”

Shinsuke hears the beat of footsteps, a run-up that’s gaining in speed. _So fragile_ , he thinks, this bubble; the twins keep different silences, but they are alike in more ways than they realise.

“I understand,” he says, and nods.


	9. show them the colour of the sky

It’s tradition, Shinsuke knows, to make a speech, and it’s not like he’s ever lacked for pretty words, they tumble silk-smooth off his lips—

No, it’s not like he lacks for pretty words.

It’s just the bus, and the engine raring to go and a New Year’s sky that blooms like fireworks, Osamu staring into the distance, Suna tucking into takeaway _takoyaki_ , the sound of Alan taking a deep breath to yell at Atsumu for _god knows what now_ , and Shinsuke can only pause—

Take it all in, sling his jacket round his shoulders, and lead the way.


End file.
